Often in life our plans change due to unforeseen circumstances. It can be difficult to adjust to the new directions we are forced to follow, but once in a while Plan “B” isn’t a bad direction at all. This past weekend we finally had a spring-like day and my husband and I were anxious to spend time on our mountain bikes on a local trail. There are a TON of trails near our cottage and we are just beginning to explore them. While I still prefer road biking, I’m quickly developing a love for riding through the mountain trails. For me it combines two great loves – hiking and biking. It’s like hiking on wheels.

Ready to hit the trail

We rode up a big hill just to get to the trail head and we excitedly started down the trail. Some of the trail was a very smooth mountain path and other sections were more technical. (I tend to walk the more difficult sections. – yes, I’m a wimp. ) We were riding for about 10 minutes and we suddenly found ourselves faced with needing a plan “B” While going over a large group of rocks my husband’s derailleur completely snapped in half and the bike could no longer be ridden.

The derailleur is the piece that shifts the chain between gears. (this one is not broken)

We then had a decision to make—just walk the bikes back to the cottage or park them by a tree and continue on the path by foot. We, of course, chose the latter option. Since we love to hike it was a great alternative.

White I was disappointed that our original plans got derailed, (pun intended 🙂 )I realized as I walked that I was able to see things from a totally different perspective on foot than on the bike. On the bike most of my concentration goes to avoiding obstacles – trees, rocks, roots….. Much of the surrounding beauty is overlooked due to the necessity of needing to watch the trail directly in front of you.

Ready to enjoy Plan “B”

I began to take pictures of things I would have missed if I was still on my bike. The first was a moss-covered rock. The bright green just jumped out at me. With spring just now beginning here in South-Central PA nature is just now starting to sprout green around us.

Gorgeous shad of green

At one point I stopped and looked up at the sky. It was so beautiful to see the sky surrounded by various tree tops. This was something I definitely couldn’t have done on a bike. (Try looking up at the sky while riding a bike – not a good idea)

Beautiful spring sky as seen through tree tops

We hiked to the end of the trail and began the trek back to pick up our bikes and head to the cottage. I had passed by this tree going the first direction, but it was an entirely different view from this side.

One funky tree

We eventually reached the spot where our bikes were leaning against a tree and began the process of walking them back. While it was definitely not fun walking a heavy mountain bike over all of the obstacles on the trail I wouldn’t have given up the chance to simply be out in nature. All in all it was a wonderful day.

I’m sure we have all had phone calls that changed our lives. Some calls impact our life for a day or so and cause only a minor change of plans. Others may affect us for weeks or months and then there some that may have an impact on us for the rest of our life. I received a call this past summer that would impact my life for several months.

It was a Sunday morning and I was ready to walk out the door for church when the phone rang. My husband was bicycling in a charity ride from Philadelphia to Atlantic City – Tour de Shore. I did this ride last year, but chose not to do it this year because the roads were very rough. The caller identified herself as a woman who was riding in the group with my husband and she informed me that he had taken a bad fall which resulted in a fractured collarbone.

Immediately after ending the call I begin to think all of the ways our lives were about to change. My plans for the day changed right way. My first task was to figure out how to get to him home. After taking the train to Philadelphia, getting a cab to the hotel where his car was still in the parking garage and then driving to the hospital in New Jersey I found my husband not just with a shattered collarbone, but also six broken ribs. (OUCH!!!) I then had to drive him the 2+ hours back home while trying not to hit bumps or do anything that would cause him pain. (Thankfully he had taken 2 Percocet.) For a “country girl” much of this was out of my comfort zone.

This is a Percocet smile. 🙂

Life the first week was consumed with caring for him both before and after the surgery to repair his clavicle. It was broken so badly that it required a plate, screws and a bone graft. The surgery did help with some of the pain in his shoulder, but the ribs were excruciating any time he moved. Pain medication was his best friend for several weeks, but slowly, the pain level began to subside. Each time he would accomplish a task that had been impossible before, it was cause for celebration…..i.e. getting out of bed by himself, putting on a shirt that didn’t button down, driving, etc… Eventually life began to return to a somewhat normal routine.

Day of Surgery (cute hair net)

That phone call definitely caused upheaval in our lives, but we were very aware that it could have been worse. Luckily, we were able to be grateful for the things we could still enjoy had rather than focusing on those we couldn’t. I found myself hoping he would be back on a bike at some point, but I was thankful that he was able to spend evenings with me listening to music, sipping wine by the fire pit and watching the sun set. We both developed a deeper appreciation for the simple pleasures that we are able to enjoy together.

View from our deck

Since then he has continued to heal and even went for a short ride with me a few weeks ago. He now has full range of motion in his shoulder and other than a scar, he is back to normal. Yes, those kinds of phone calls can change our lives in small or large ways, but life goes on and it is how we handle those changes that determines what kind of life we will have.

OK, I confess—- I got high today, but not the way you think. I didn’t partake of marijuana, cocaine or any other illicit drug, but I was definitely feeling that kind of euphoria earlier today. (at least what I’m TOLD it feels like–wink, wink) Curious? – I guess I should explain.

I enjoy riding a bicycle and today was a perfect day for a cycling…temperature in the 80’s, very low wind and mostly sunny. This particular ride was like many others except that it had a specific purpose. Here in South Central Pennsylvania the honeysuckle is in full bloom and it smells AMAZING, so today’s ride was a ‘honeysuckle ride’. I chose a 25 mile route along back country roads that I knew had the largest sections of honeysuckle. I rode by patch after patch of fully-blooming honeysuckle and as I passed each one I took a slow deep breath through my nose in order to inhale as much of that alluring scent as possible (taking care not to hyperventilate.) I enjoyed each and every wave of the heavenly scent and even found myself moaning a few times–luckily nobody was around.

As with any ride I enjoyed many aspects such as the breeze on my face, getting wonderful exercise, seeing many beautiful sights along the way, but the biggest pleasure today was being able to continually savor that sweet aroma of honeysuckle. I may not have used an illegal substance today, but I definitely ‘inhaled’ and got as high as possible from honeysuckle. Believe it or not the song “Rocky Mountain High” kept going through my mind, except I was singing it as “Honeysuckle High”. I was enjoying myself so much that if my legs hadn’t gotten tired I might still be riding.

If you’ve never tried it, I suggest you give it a shot. I must warn you that it IS addictive. 😉

The line between courage and craziness can sometimes be blurry. As a 52-year old grandma, I viewed myself as somewhat courageous because I’m still very active—I enjoy many outdoor activities including road cycling and backpacking. My perspective on that, however, has come into question.

My husband and I were in Banff, Canada, in the Canadian Rockies, for a business trip and we decided to make good use of the free time before the organized events began. The first day we rode mountain bikes along two fairly easy trails, but then decided to attempt a third more difficult trail. I quickly began to question our choice as it wasn’t a typical mountain bike trail, but had steep banks that had been filled in with loose rocks/gravel because the dirt had been washed away. There were many times as I was slip-sliding my way up a hill or inching my way down another that I was doing some serious praying. (i.e. “Please let me survive this.”) After several hours we did make it back to the hotel in one piece albeit with very tired legs and arms (from holding on so tight to the handlebars.)

Me before the trail got rocky (thus the smile)

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The next day took my questioning to a higher level. We decided to hike Sulphur Mountain, which is a fairly aggressive four mile alpine hike to the summit. I think under normal conditions we would have been OK, but the trail had a lot more snow than we expected. The trail started out as dirt and mud with little patches of snow , but as we climbed there were more and more sections that were snow covered and slippery. We both found ourselves slipping every once in a while, but then as we neared the top, I made one very poor choice in my footing. I was on a very snowy stretch, but there was a narrow strip of dirt along the edge of the trail and I decided to walk on the dirt since it was less slippery than the snow/ice. Unfortunately, as I set my foot on the dirt, it gave way. I instantly found myself on my back, sliding down the side of the mountain — I mean SLIDING at a fast rate of speed. Please understand that this is the kind of thing I’ve only seen in scary movies, but suddenly I was living it and I was TERRIFIED!

Me before the fall (again, smiling before disaster)

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As I slid, I frantically grabbed at any branch, root or plant I flew past. At one point I caught the branch of a pine tree but was moving so fast that I couldn’t keep my grip and began to pick up speed. Just as I lost hope of being able to stop myself I saw a tree in my path and braced for the impact. Luckily, I caught the tree with one of my thighs and finally came to a stop with my legs straddling the tree and my arms wrapped around, holding on for dear life. I breathed a sigh of relief as I could tell that nothing was broken, but that there were lot of cuts and bruises. My husband had started to slide down to try and help me, but its was so steep and slippery that he lost control too. He managed to stop quite a bit above me and we began to talk and try to figure out what to do next. If we tried to climb back up to the trail by ourselves the risk of beginning to slide again was a very real possibility.

Trail before it got more snowy and scary

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Just then, some ‘rescuers’ came upon us. There were 3 strapping, young men coming up the trail behind us and my husband called out to them to ask for help. They carefully supported each other and climbed down to help us back up to the trail. Once I was safely back on the trail, I realized that the only way to get out of this mess was to keep climbing and finish the last mile of the hike so that we could ride the gondola down. (Yes, we could have ridden the gondola to the top, but where’s the fun in that?) Trying to hike back down under such slippery conditions would have been WAY more dangerous than continuing to climb. After another mile or so of hiking through snow with my shaky legs and stinging cuts we finally reached the top.

At the top—shaky, but smiling

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Back at the hotel, as I got my wounds cleaned and tried to assess whether I needed stitches, I began to ponder the question of whether I’m courageous or crazy. I realized how lucky I was and felt grateful for several things. First, I was very thankful that I didn’t break any bones and that I somehow escaped with just scrapes on the back of my arms, larger cuts on my legs and bruises in all kinds of places. I was also grateful that I had packed mostly slacks and long sleeved shirts for the rest of the week since my arms and legs were NOT very pretty. I was, of course, also thankful that my hands escaped unharmed so I could keep making jewelry. 🙂

So…here’s the question…..is a 52-year old Grandma that does somewhat risky things like this courageous or crazy? …. And, even if she’s crazy—– should she stop? I kinda think that crazy isn’t always a bad thing. 🙂

Gondola ride down Sulphur Mountain

View of trail near the top from Gondola

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PS—Believe it or not, I climbed back on a mountain bike a few days later, but I was VERY nervous and extremely cautious—-basically a ‘chicken’. I guess I’m going to stay ‘crazy’, but maybe a bit more cautious than before.

Like this:

I love being able to experience changes in season. Here in South-Central Pennsylvania, we are anxiously awaiting the end of winter and the beginning of spring. The charm of winter has worn off and I, for one, am looking forward to warmer weather. In the beginning of winter the snow is delightful and exciting. Sitting by the fire with a cup of coffee is heart-warming. All of the unique and special experiences that come along with winter were fun for a time, but by this time of year, I am ready to move on to the next season—spring.

I look forward to being able to go outside without a coat and to see the first of the spring flowers begin to bloom. I always enjoy the first day that I can open the windows and let the warm, spring breeze blow through the house. It feels so refreshing to hear the birds chirping in such a way that you can tell THEY are excited about spring also.

I also look forward to being able to do one of my favorite things—riding my bike. I live in an area with many country roads and there aren’t many feelings better than hopping on my bike for a long ride on a beautiful spring day. Sure, it has been warm enough to ride several times lately, but it has only been possible if I’m wearing all of my winter gear. It feels so much better to be able to feel the spring wind on your face and feel the sun warming your back. I’m fairly certain that I have a smile on my face for most of the first ‘spring’ ride of the season.

Unfortunately, I’m going to have to be patient and wait a bit longer for all of these delights. The first official day of spring may be in a few days, but the true warmth won’t be here for several weeks. Until then, I’ll keep my warm riding clothes handy and be grateful for any taste of spring that comes my way.